Page 35 of Worship Him

I stare at the array of supplies, momentarily overwhelmed. "Alright, how hard can this be?"

Destiny starts to reach for the wipes, but I wave her off. "I've got this."

Cleaning a baby who just pooped is tougher than expected. The smell is overwhelming but I push through and clean her thoroughly. I apply the cream and powder as instructed by Destiny.

It takes me three attempts to get the diaper on correctly, and by the end, there's powder everywhere. But Avery's clean and dry, gurgling happily as I lift her back into my arms.

"Not bad for a first try," I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

The hours slip by, filled with bottles and playful interactions—peekaboo, making funny faces.

Avery’s laugh fills the room as I lift her high in the air at one point. Her joy is infectious, and for the upteenth time, I forget everything but this pure, unfiltered happiness.

When the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the nursery, I know it's time to leave. I place a sleeping Avery in her crib, my hand lingering on her back for a moment.

Destiny walks me to the door. We stand there, the air thick with tension and things left unsaid. Her eyes meet mine, and for a split second, I see a flash of the woman I fell in love with.

I clear my throat. "I want to see her again. Soon."

Destiny nods. "Of course. How about next week?"

"I'll text you about the time and date," I reply, my voice gruff.

Another moment passes, charged with potential. But I turn and walk away, the door closing firmly behind me.

I drive home, my grip on the steering wheel tight. The memory of Avery’s tiny fingers clutching mine lingers, a stark contrast to the anger still simmering just beneath the surface.

It’s a whirlwind of emotions—happiness from spending time with my daughter, frustration over being kept in the dark.

As I pull into my driveway, the weight of what Destiny did hits me again. I missed so many moments—Avery's first smile, her first laugh. Moments I can never get back.

I step out of the car and slam the door harder than necessary. The sound echoes in the quiet evening air.

I punch in the code for my front door and step inside, dropping my keys on the table by the entrance.

Pouring myself a whiskey, I take a long sip, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat. Whiskey typically helps me think more clearly, but it’s not very useful tonight.

I lean against the counter, staring at nothing in particular. Shaking my head, I decide to take a cold shower and go to bed early.

The house is too quiet as I head upstairs, hating that I don't know what lies ahead for me, my daughter, or Destiny.

14

ADAM

Isit in my office, staring at the business reports scattered across my desk. The numbers blur together, a mess of percentages and projections that usually manage to hold my focus.

But today, my mind drifts to Avery. Her tiny fingers gripping mine, the way she looked at me with those big brown eyes.

A knock on the door pulls me back to reality. Thomas steps in, looking every bit the part of a man who bills by the hour.

“Adam, we need to talk about your latest instructions,” he says, settling into the chair opposite me.

I nod, pushing the reports aside. I know why he seems so upset and I’m ready to push back and get my way. “Go on.”

He takes a breath, clearly choosing his words carefully. “You want to halt the proceedings to remove Destiny’s stakes in your company. That’s a drastic move.”

“The situation has changed,” I say calmly, leaning forward. “The child is mine.”

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